


Departure and Journey

by TimeKing



Series: Expedition Towards Connections [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Making Out, Other, Sensual Play, Shonen-ai, Slow Build, Yaoi, connection, expedition - Freeform, expedition towards connection, shingeki no kyojin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeKing/pseuds/TimeKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During an archeological expedition 1500 years in the future from the victory of humankind against titans, six people are gathered who have shared memories from their former lives, but know nothing about it. Yet it all changes once they arrive at Ancient Trost... AU</p><p>Mature for later chapters... probably. </p><p>Currently on hiatus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no money with this. I'm just fooling around with my current favourite toys.
> 
> ***EDIT: I changed the title, because I'll be making this a series for the Arcs purpose... and maybe for some extra-oneshots about the characters' and secondary characters' pasts... *starting to make this a huuuuge project* ***
> 
> Hello everybody, this is my first - and I'm really excited to say that - post in AO3... TA-DAAAA~ ^^;; *still excited and sweating like Bertl* Please be kind to a poor German girl who makes mistakes in English grammar and spelling and such... tell me if my style is offending your pleasure to read FFs or if there's something which has to be necessarily corrected. I make mistakes, a lot probably. But don't flame me, puh-lease...? OTL
> 
> There will be 3 Arcs actually in this series (at least I hope so. xD), **Departure and Journey** , Discovery in Trost and the Dealing-With (I hope I'll find a better name for that one up until then... ^^;;)
> 
> Pairings:  
> Marco x Jean  
> Reiner x Bertholdt  
> Erwin x Levi
> 
> (hope you like that... I just love them. <3)
> 
> "Hinted": former Erwin/Hanji, former Levi/Petra, Oluo/Petra

Their sponsor had quite a peculiar taste of mixing people together, Jean noted. All of them were unique in their own fashion including the sponsor and leader of their expedition himself. 

„In our original sources it is stated that 1513 years ago humankind won the final battle against their strongest enemy ever, the titans. We all had history lessons, we all know about that.” Erwin Smith, aforementioned leader, chuckled slightly. “Alas, hopefully during our expedition to the ancient ruins of Trost we will find formerly used war equipment and other important relics which helped humankind...” He spoke in a clear, enthusiastic voice that could convince people to give their lives for their work. 

Jean actually clung to his lips, sucking in every word he said. And Jean never clung to anybodies lips, not even to those of his lovers. 

He was a newb on the field of archeology, a technician to be exact. He worked wonders on machines, knowing how to repair stuff but also how to improve it. And he'd already helped to improve this expedition's machinery to such great extend that he had been allowed to participate in the preliminary discussion, which was usually restricted to the more archeological people of the team. It was the greatest honor and he adored their leader even more for letting him be part of this, when other superiors didn't even give him the chance of showing his fortes, even though he passed his master degrees with magna cum laude. 

Why, you ask? Well, this was easily explained. He was too blunt, even though he himself would call it honest. Companies and especially their uptight CEOs didn't want bluntness and the friction it caused among their employees. Obviously people believed he wasn't a teamplayer for that reason. Screw them! Jean Kirschstein could work in a team, as long as it was competent and not a bunch of lazy-assed co-workers who didn't want to do their jobs properly and couldn't take an outright insult... or maybe two or three or four... .okay, maybe he was too blunt at times, but it was always justified.

So, when Erwin Smith himself asked him to join their expedition, while waving a very tempting pay check with loads of zeros on it at him, you can imagine why Jean didn't hesitate to participate in this.

Looking around at the people gathered he couldn't quite tell how specifically great they were on their main subjects – whatever these were – but most of them didn't seem older than himself, apart from this short bloke with the dark-brown undercut and the white coat, who looked disinterested and grumpy at the same time. There was also a big bulky blonde who looked stern, yet also a tad bit mockingly. He gently nudged the tall darker tanned and slightly nervous looking guy beside him, who shot him a small smile in return. And finally, that freckled raven-haired dude beside himself, who kept on smiling like there was no greater honor than standing here. He probably fel like Jean, new to the subject of exploring ancient history and excited. Jean smiled slightly, sympathizing with him. 

All of them, including Jean himself, were the heads of their departments within this expedition team and a weird set of people, that was for sure. Would Jean get along with them? Could he cope with so many different characters? Did he actually need to? It would be nicer to have them as comrades than having them ignore him.

His gaze went back to their sponsor, who was still orating in front of the five gathered men. He was a bold man starting such a long ranged expedition like this and certainly he had his charms. If he'd be gay or a girl, he'd also mentioned his outstanding handsomeness, but, well, he was neither. Still he couldn't oversee certain aspects of his appearance: Erwin's blue eyes literally sparkled from the thirst for adventure and radiated motivation which was kind of contagious. Jeans heart fluttered slightly from excitement, but also from fear, because Erwin didn't forget to mention that their trip would be a dangerous one. Thugs, collapsing buildings, wild animals and contaminated areas of land... there were several reasons why no one went to the ancient refugees of humankind from about 1500 years ago nowadays. 

But this was something important, something earthshaking and he'd be part of that. Just thinking of the reputation he'd get if they were successful made him feel dizzy and, of cause, the money he'd earn from it. _Goddamn, I just realized how cool that is._

“...why I assembled all of you to help humankind remember the heroic times of our past, so that we all can be proud of our heritage.” A reassuring smile graced the blonde mid-thirty's lips as he closed his speech and looked at his team with pride, which, after a short pause of sheer awe, started to applaud. _Man, this guy has a knack for words,_ Jean thought cat-calling enthusiastically.

Erwin chuckled. “Now now, Jean, we're not on a rock concert. Too much honor.” He humbly stated and patted Jeans shoulder comradely before turning towards the freckled boy beside him. “Marco, do you have anything you need? You're our most important member once we arrive at Ancient Trost. We can still provide you with further equipment if you need...?” 

The raven-haired shook his head and smiled broadly. “No-no, Sir, I'm perfectly fine. I've never actually worked that prepared before, haha. So much information in such a small device that's incredible. Thanks so much!” He looked admiringly at the black colored tablet PC with three golden emblems engraved on its back that he'd been holding the whole time in his hand like a treasure.

 _Never before? So this wasn't his first expedition, huh?_ Jean mused and glanced sideways, scanning him. He couldn't be much older than him, could he? What was he there for anyway and why was he so important? His level of curiosity rose as he kept on staring him up and down. That guy seemed strangely familiar to him, although he could tell he hadn't seen him once in his life. He still kept on staring even as Erwin already passed to the others of the group, asking them some questions. 

“Do I have something peculiar on my face?” The guy called Marco chuckled slightly and turned towards him while taking off the glasses he had been wearing from his freckled nose and storing them inside his neat white shirt pocket. Those hazelnut eyes closed into upturned crescents as he smiled at him.

Jean instantly sputtered, feeling the blush sprouting on his cheeks. “N-no.... absolutely not... I was just wondering... have we met before? Maybe? Name's Kirschstein, Jean Kirschstein. I'll be head technician... uh... and hi, I suppose.” He hold out his hand and, still with a smile on his lips, Marco shook it.

“Marco Bodt, pleasure to meet you and sorry, no, I don't recall your name. I'm the expert for ancient language and scripture here. So, just boring linguistic geek, haha, right?” His voice was confident and calm, yet it also had a tang of uncertainty into it. Was he doubting his own skills? Or did he get bullied because of that before... maybe when he still went to school?

Jean furrowed his brows, trying to remember hard where he had come across such modest yet undoubtedly sympathetic behavior and that genuine smile and that warm feeling of comfort around him... it was still persistently familiar, but he just couldn't call to mind where and when they could have met. Maybe there had been someone similar to him back in his childhood days? A friend he'd forgotten about...? Then again, how could you forget a friend, if he'd been good enough to feel comfortable around? Strange, really strange.

He shook his head, for one to clear his mind and for two to answer Marco's question. “Nah, when you're a geek so am I. Being a techie ever since my childhood days.” he proudly stated. “It's good to know about your stuff, if you ask me. So, easy, won't judge you or somethin'. If languages are your thing, then so be it. Is this your first expedition, by the way? It sounded like you went on at least one before?” 

Wasn't that unsuspected? Blunt, unsocial Jean Kirschstein was having a smalltalk with a person he just met and felt good about it. _Look at that, you CEO-asses! I'm doing great at teamwork! Piece of cake!_

“Yeah, I've been on three expeditions before. But just minor ones to some ruins, such as in the former Jinae district close to Wall Rose. We didn't find much of interest though.” The way he spoke sounded so professional compared to me, even though he was blushing and sheepishly scratching his cheek.

“Ah, hi there, sorry that I've been kinda eavesdropping on you two, but you're really that Marco Bodt, huh?” A rough voice behind Jean asked. “I've read your articles about ancient runes in Archeology Today, great work, absolutely. Such a celebrity among us is kinda flattering for our business, right Bertl?” It was the bulky, blonde guy accompanied by the taller, dark tanned one who smiled and nodded in agreement, but didn't say a word.

Marco shyly rubbed his hand over the back of his neck while blushing tomato red. “W-well, it was just a small series of articles, really. Nothing special at all. You must be those guys from-” he looked at his tablet PC. “uhm... Titan Research, correct?” 

“Yeah, I'm Reiner Braun, head pyrotechnician and archeological excavation expert on this expedition and this is my business partner, Bertholdt.” He wrapped his arm around the taller one's, Bertholdt's, shoulder, before pushing him gently forward to make him introduce himself. 

“N-nice to meet you, Marco. I'm Bertholdt Hoover, supply manager, cook and tracker.” He said in a deep, baritone voice; a friendly one and not as uncertain and stuttering as Jean would have expected from his tensed up expression. “It's nice to meet you, too, of course... Jean, is it, right?” 

The latter nodded and shook hands with both of them, stiffening up a little bit himself. Those two seemed as familiar as Marco but they didn't feel so comfortable to be around with for some unknown reason, even though he thought them okay after their introduction and a small first conversation. 

It turned out that Jean was surrounded by quite some important people among the archeology branch. The best of the best, actually. Reiner and Bertholdt had their own little office in the capital city and got frequently booked for important expeditions, their latest one being the Stohess expedition which went through the news for weeks. While Jean had achieved nothing at all apart from his master degrees so far, they were pretty well known among archeologists, even though he was the same age as them.

And then there was Marco, being just a year older than himself and quite a little prodigy: A genius in ancient languages and scriptures who gained a lot of reputation lately by writing for the Archeology Today press, a publisher for the eponymous, most popular magazine nowadays – because humanity found history more interesting than boring, modern everyday life; the Titan War period being the most interesting era, of course. 

Jean began to be doubtful about his own position in the team. A rare occasion, one might say, because Jean Kirschstein wasn't dubious about himself quite often. 

Alongside all those famous people, could he stand his ground? He was a talented technician, yes, he didn't doubt that fact one bit, but, would he be accepted in their circle? He wasn't sure. Did it even matter? Yes, it did. He didn't want to be the lonesome rider anymore. What if...?

“Jean... hey Jean, are you even listening?” A hand appeared in front of his eyesight, waving up and down. Jean blinked and looked sideways at its owner, seeing Marco's worried expression. Oh... Did he space out? Well, obviously.

“Uh... sorry, I was just thinking. What did you say?” 

Marco sighed and shook his head, but smiling slightly. “Seriously. Pay attention when your superiors speak to you. Erwin treats us to dinner, it may be the last decent meal we'll have for month to come. So, come on, hurry.” 

Without any restraint the freckled language geek grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him towards the others who already started to walk off. Usually Jean wasn't one to get along well with others, usually he didn't let himself get dragged across the streets and usually he wouldn't let someone scold him for something such minor as getting dinner. But, for some obnoxious reason, for that Marco person, it was okay. Marco was the kind of guy who opened up the gates to their archeologists circle.... and it was still feeling comfortable around him. Like they had known each other for ages.

Jean smiled. _You sentimental piece of shit, Kirschstein._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for the start, hope you liked it? :3 Interesting idea or boring as hell? I like to read your opinion no matter how harsh it may be. Because, if you think it's shit I'll just drop this case and ban it into the back of my mind. xD


	2. Past Time With Good Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: The one where there's a funny discussion about Dr. Levi and his heroic name's origin as well as some insight into the Titan Research team.  
> [Reiner's POV]
> 
> *** THANKS EVERYONE FOR THE COMMENTS AND KUDOS AND BOOKMARKS!!! You can't probably imagine what a goofy smile plays around my lips, whenever I look at the statistics! I'm so goddamn flattered! <3 ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Company with honesty  
> Is virtue, vices to flee;  
> Company is good and ill  
> But any man hath his free will  
> The best ensue  
> The worst eschew...  
> My mind shall be  
> Virtue to use  
> Vice to refuse  
> Thus shall I use me...  
> (Blackmore's Night [Past Time With Good Company])

The first few week of their trip went smoothly. No interruptions and no malfunctions at all, yet as soon as they passed the remains of Wall Maria, all of their technical equipment went overboard in unison, making Jean Kirschstein currently their most important member and them halt in the remains of Shiganshina, ruins of an old, abandoned district town. 

It was a given, though. The lands before them, referred to as the _Ancient Human Refugee_ , always compromised a strange grudge towards technology. It was nothing more than a strong interfering signal actually, but there was no saying where it exactly came from and why just in this particular area of the world. There were rumors, though, of course... 

People believed the many slain titans' bodies tainted the earth, but scientists knew from original scrolls and documents that titans, once slain, evaporated into thin air. So it wasn't possible for their remains to contaminate the earth beneath them. Apart from that, this had been human territory. There had been titans all around the globe. It made no sense to believe that it was their bodies tainting the place. It was more likely that humankind themselves were at fault. 

“Oi, Jean, how are you doing so far?” Reiner asked, slumping down on the bench opposite him, a large bowl of lentil stew and a fresh, still-warm loaf of bread on a tablet which he, unceremoniously, dropped onto the wooden tabletop. The technician seemed absorbed into watching their doctor sitting at another, empty table and enjoying a cup of black tea with the gloomiest expression on his face imaginable. Jean absentmindedly dipped a piece of his own bread into the stew, before shoving it into his mouth. It took him quite a moment to turn his attention towards Reiner, finally recognizing that he was speaking to him.

“Yeah... yeah. I'm doing fine. It's a crapload of tough work, though. Never guessed that this area could wreck such havoc on our machines and its electronics. Still, Erwin remains ridiculously calm. Guess, it's all about experience.” He shrugged, Then his gaze almost immediately darted back to the doctor, some unspoken questions reflecting in his honey colored eyes.

Reiner couldn't suppress a chuckle. “You in love or something? Stop staring at him, it'll only rile him up, trust me.”

“Shuddup, blondie.” Jean immediately snapped, scowling grimly.

“Are you talking about Dr. Levi?” Marco asked with that prominent air of innocence surrounding him. “Well, it's actually not my business, but ain't he a bit _too old_ for you, Jean?” He sat down beside the glowering young man, his own share of food on a tablet, as Jean began to stutter some incoherent excuses, all the while blushing deep crimson and shooting daggers at the raven-haired man. Unfortunately for him, Marco repelled all of those with the saintliest smile he could muster. Reiner couldn't suppress a snicker.

“Don't.... don't you start on that, too! I'm not _in love_ with him or something. That's bullshit! J-just kinda wondered, why he always keeps away from us and spends most of the time alone. I mean, he's been like that from the beginning... all isolating himself. If it weren't for Erwin spending him some company once in a while, he'd probably not talk all day long. I'm just... a bit... curious about that, is all!”

“I heard his own assistants fear his wrath and even call him _Captain_.” Bertholdt hummed, joining their conversation and sitting down beside Reiner. “And that he's a clean freak. Quite peculiar quirks for someone with such a honorable name and title, don't you think?” 

Honorable name, indeed. Levi had been the name of one of the soldiers who played a major role in defeating the titans in the Titan War about 1500 years ago. According to several original documents which were retrieved, he used to be a federal corporal in the glorious and famous Survey Corpse and was believed to be _humanity's strongest_ as well as _humanity's ray of hope_.

Well, but if you looked at that spiteful, little shrimp of a person at the other table, you would hardly believe he had anything in common with that heroic figure of ancient history. A clean freak, huh? Just imagining lance corporal Levi cleaning windows or scrubbing the floor like a germaphobe instead of slaying titans seemed to cause a _'system error'_ in Reiner's imagination department.

He snickered, earning himself a couple of funny stares. “Just imagining him.... hehehehe... scrubbing the latrine with a toothbrush or something, hahaha.”

Jean was the first to burst into laughter after this announcement, shortly followed Bertl, who'd chuckle silently trying to hide his amusement behind some coughs. The only one looking slightly aghast in their group was Marco.

“I can't believe you all. You're like the worst gossip folk.” he chided, a tang of earnest disappointment in his voice, while his eyes ghosted accusingly over everyone. “I talked to him just about yesterday and I assure you Dr. Levi is a nice person. He may not be much into smalltalk and appears a bit straightforward and therefore intimidating, but he answered all of my questions with utmost care and he helped me out without a word of complaint. If you all would stop judging a book by its cover you'd see he's not unlike you, Jean.” 

“Hey, what did I do? I was just musing about his tendency to avoid us!” The light brown haired technician exclaimed, while wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. He still couldn't keep his laughter back, even if it meant Marco shooting him another accusing look. 

It was just then that someone cleared his throat rather loudly. “Well, it may be – and I'm just assuming here – that I don't feel the need to be around a bunch of immature douchebags, who'd try talking bad about me behind my back, but fail, due to the fact that I'm sitting about five meters away from them, right within earshot, catching every fucking word they just said. You think I'm goddamn deaf, brats?” The doctor glared at them over the rim of his tea cup, his deadpanned expression making the others shrivel in their seats. Even Marco, who had been defending his conduct the whole time looked gradually ashamed of himself.

“Tch... just get lost.” Levi rose from his bench, cup still in his hand, turned on his heel and strode back to his assigned caravan. Before he disappeared into its antiseptic interior, though, he just glanced back over his shoulder at the group of young men, musing for a moment, before raising his voice: “Oh, and Bodt, I weren't exactly referring to you, but mind that, I'm not a nice person and I'm especially not like _Kirschstein_ in any way. Don't assume such crap, barely knowing me.” The door fell shut behind him with a loud _'pang'_ , making everybody noticeably flinch at their table and exchanging guilty glances. _Ouch._

Bertholdt was the first to release his breath after a short pause of awkward silence, a sweat drop forming at his temple and running idly down his cheek. “I think he's pretty intimidating.” he mumbled subdued.

“Scary as hell, you mean.” Reiner agreed with a nod. “Seriously, I hope I won't ever get sick or injured on this mission. I'd rather die than facing him again.”

Marco sighed, picking up his spoon and starting to dig into his food. “Well, what did you expect? Of course he was irritated, who wouldn't be? It was pretty rude of us to talk about him. But I don't think it would influence his work in any way, he's a pro like everyone else of us. By the way, Bertholdt, this tastes great and I'm usually not fond of legumes.” A kind, reassuring smile graced his lips as the chef blushed, while scratching his cheek in his usual cute, sheepish way. 

Reiner smiled. The dread that was Dr. Levi was instantly forgotten at the pretty sight. No matter how nice everyone was, Bertholdt would always get flustered over such tiny little things like being praised. Reiner was relieved that the tall one was getting along so well with everyone in their team. Usually he would just be his tacit, reserved self around other people. 

Even though Marco was kind enough to praise his cooking skills, Bertholdt wasn't usually in the position of a chef while on expeditions, though. He was more of a head researcher, actually, a reliable source for every valid information regarding the Titan Era. He seemed to inhale and process each freshly announced content regarding that epoch like a computer and he was nearly fluent in that goddamn ancient language, knowing each and every accent there used to be. Maybe he was even on equal levels with Marco's skills on this. 

The only stupid thing about speaking is, Bertl never was much of a talker, even less so regarding dead tongues or around other people, that is. It proved to be rather bothersome for his curriculum vitae and job interviews, but they had always convinced their expedition leaders of his qualities somehow and by now gained enough reputation to keep their business running and their positions ensured, even without him saying a word.

And then there came that Erwin Smith. 

He had been so much different in his choice of team members. One like him wasn't impressed by their list of successful expeditions, neither was he impressed by their reputation so far. He said, he'd pick the best and the best would be those he himself deemed best. He didn't give a damn about other peoples' opinions; people, he hadn't once met in his live, no matter if they were famous or not. Those were his words and Reiner and Bertl had been almost sure, this appealing job slipped off their hands like oily fish. Yet, Erwin had his eyes set on Reiner for the rather hard excavation work and he wanted him in at all costs... for whatever reason. 

So, when Reiner announced that he had one condition, which included that he wanted Bertholdt in as well, because the bulky blonde wouldn't want to go anywhere without his partner at his side, Erwin understood, even admired his bluntness on the matter, if the intriguing sparkle in his azure eyes was any indication, and he accepted the deal without hesitation. But, since he already counted Marco in on his team, he told them, he couldn't commit Bertholdt the position of head researcher and made him a chef and supply manager instead. It was a little draw-back for the lanky one to be serving in such an disrespectable position, but he never complained once.

Reiner smiled at that. His tall partner was kind and gentle almost all of the time, like a big dog who would look menacingly for its size, but actually turned out to be as meek as a lamb. He knew, he was a harmony-seeker, someone who'd hardly ever get into a conflict or claim a position, no matter how confident he felt about his skills and knowledge – not that the way-too-humble dork ever did. But it was one of the reasons for not envying Marco.

Yet, the main reason for not grudging him was entirely different. He had consumed all of the freckled language wonder's articles once they were released and he adored him like an idol after reading them. Gosh, he had even rambled about him so much that Reiner threatened to speak no further word with him, unless he stopped it. It was rare, hearing Bertl talk so much about someone else and Reiner had been beyond jealousy at some point. 

Well, at least now Bertl admired Marco secretly and – he assured him that many times over – in a platonic, professional kind of way. However, he was too shy to show that kind of fanboyish affection towards the freckled one far too obviously, but Reiner could see it nonetheless: The excited glimmer in his eyes, the clumsy, fumbling-for-words gestures he'd make, because he was oh-so-nervous, the constant sweating, which increased by the minute, the genuine smile, he usually spared only for Reiner and that slight blush on his cheeks, whenever the raven-haired language expert complimented him for whatever reason. It was cute and heart-warming, to see Bertholdt flourish like that. Besides, Reiner's jealousy was off the table anyway. He trusted his partner and Marco was too nice and virtuous to be a real threat.

“Well, guys, it's about time. Gotta go to work again. See you later.” The aforementioned technician announced with a sigh and waved his goodbyes, as he rose from his seat and strolled off into some direction. 

Jean was eager to fit in and worked currently harder than the rest, with all the engine breakdowns and repair work ahead, but they had jobs themselves, too, and Erwin could be a nuisance about working morale and accuracy sometimes. So, after Jean's departing, the rest of them decided to return back to their own work as well. 

Since Reiner already checked on his equipment earlier that day, he didn't have much of work to do at the moment, though. He'd be working twenty-four seven once they arrived in Trost, but for now he was free and able to help Bertholdt with the cleaning, while Marco would go meet Erwin to provide him with as much usable information he had gathered so far as possible. 

There was still a long road ahead of them, Reiner thought, drying the wet and cleaned tableware absentmindedly. They'd go through a lot of adventures and dangers together and bonding with their teammates beforehand was a necessary means to built up some degree of trust and team spirit between them. Yet, with such pleasant company, Reiner had no doubt, it would be worth the process.

He came to think of how easily they got along right from the beginning and his mind wandered back to their small office in the capital city. Marco as well as Jean would be nice additions to their business. Maybe he'd talk with Bertl about offering them a permanent job after they were done with this journey. They'd just be so popular among archeologists. And they could do more expeditions on their own behalf in the future, instead of having to rely on other people booking them. Surely, a sponsor wouldn't be much of a problem anymore with all of them in one team. A broad grin stretched Reiner's lips. Yeah, this was a good plan. He'd definitely talk this over with Bertholdt tonight.

“You surely are in quite a cheery mood today.” His partner pointed out, smiling warmly and shooting him an affectionate sideway glance, while wiping his hands on a dry towel. 

“Mm-hm.” The blonde hummed, drawing closer to his friend, gently wrapping an arm around his waist from behind and placing a tender kiss on his temple. The blush that crept up the taller one's neck and cheeks, made Reiner grin even wider. “That is just because I'm happy, when you're happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go. Hope you enjoyed it...?  
> I know I start a a real slow (like real, real slow) pace, but character introduction's are so important. *flails* I needed to reflect on the characters' personalities and their relationships towards each other, some fluffy hints included. x')
> 
> Next part will include Dr. Levi in all his glory fom his POV (probably) and a tad bit of angst regarding Erwin... be prepared.


	3. It's All About the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: Where there are secrets, an accident involving Erwin, a very competent and caring, yet sadistic Dr. Levi and a rather distressed Marco.  
> [Levi's POV]
> 
> I'm still flattered by the attention I get! Thanks so much, everyone! I love you, guys out there! *3*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end;   
> if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth   
> only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin,   
> and in the end, despair.  
> (C.S. Lewis)

The door swung shut with a loud _'pang'_ a far too annoying loud one, one might add. Yes, it was his own fault for kicking it shut, he was aware of that. But it was still unnerving.

Levi grunted, displeased , pissed and on the brink of migraine. So, he instinctively crossed his caravan with three strides, opened his medical supply closet and fetched two pills of highly dosed painkillers.

It wasn't like he expected them not to chitchat about his personality. Everyone would sooner or later. People tended to brand him by his unapproachable looks. To be true, he actually preferred it that way and he didn't have a clean record to begin with.

What pissed him off most was just their utter lack of decency about the matter, talking about him while he was literally sitting close by. What became of respect towards the elders? _Those insufferable, shitty brats._ Whoever taught them manners, didn't do their job right.

Slumping down in his leathery office chair while opening the lid of his notebook, he pinched the brink of his nose to ease the lingering pain between his eyebrows. For a short moment it worked... then there popped up another aggravation attack from the back of his mind. 

It manifested around the idea of their nitpicking about his blasted name. _Tch..._ as if he had any saying in this. He knew it was always an issue in discussions: Oh-so-heroic, humanity's ray of hope, fucking Levi saved the world and himself, not so heroic, germaphobic, tiny Dr. Levi wouldn't live up to that very name. Yeah, he got that, thank you very much, and, yeah, he didn't give a flying fuck, but then again, it was getting really nerve-wrecking to hear those same blasted words over and over again. 

_'Dr. Levi is so short-tempered.'_

_'Dr. Levi is a tremendous clean freak.'_

And most popular of all: _'Dr. Levi is such a tiny, little shrimp.'_

_Blah blah!_ It wasn't _that_ funny. He did save lives, too, after all; not with dumb titan-slaying blades but with extraordinary expertise and competence. He was fabulous in his own ways, why did everyone need to deliberately compare him with a dead hero?

Scowling at nothing specific but his utterly innocent and defenseless notebook, he decided to drag his mind from that rather frustrating train of thoughts. Bitterly dwelling in his grudge didn't do him any good. He went for the painkillers instead, as the arching vein on his temples started throbbing in a most pesky manner. Gulping down the two pills he had fetched earlier together with the last sip of luke-warm black tea, he turned his attention towards the screen and settled on the problem provided by Erwin on their very first day of this journey. The problem which promised him sleepless nights and nightmares of ruptured paper bits right from the beginning. Oh he hated the task the moment he set his eyes upon this shit.

 _Fuck you, Erwin. I could have had a merry time here on this expedition, doing what I'm actually paid for instead of deciphering fucking, ancient crap which cost you a shitload of money._ Cursing inwardly, he wished he had another portion of strong black tea in his cup. At least the theine would keep his eyes from drooping.

Well, if he was honest, he didn't hate that task so much – not that he'd ever tell Erwin about it. But it was plain frustrating to look at snippets of paper for most of the time without getting much of a result. 

_“This... you want me to work with these? That's a whole fucking bunch of paper bits!”_

_“Levi, please. It's important, it's confidential and there's no one I trust as much as I trust you.”_

Levi groaned, replaying their conversation in his mind. That jerky Blondie always managed to hook him with the “I trust you” line. Whenever he did that, Levi couldn't refuse his requests, even though he was aware that Erwin fucking Smith was merely pulling the right strings. Levi hated him for doing that. Still, he also trusted him, that man seemed always twelve miles ahead of everyone, plotting and planning and moving pieces on his chess board successfully all the time. If Levi had to be someone's pawn, then he'd rather be Erwin's than anybody else's.

_“It's regarding the classified case.”_

_“It's... what? For real? That one you told me about?”_

_“Yes... if you piece this together, Levi, I swear, then they cannot deny the truth any longer.”_

_“What makes you so sure? Those are just... bits of paper... plenty of them.”_

_“It's **that name** on one of the snippets.”_

_“Oh... that's interesting. But, what if **they**... you know... burn it...? Like the other documents before?”_

_“Not if we make this public before they get their dirty hands on it.”_

_“We? No, no, no... wait, gimme a sec, Erwin! Count me out of this. I've already got enough skeletons in my closet I need to take care of, remember? I can't go against those big fishs, too.”_

_“I understand that.”_

_“But?”_

_“No buts. I understand, Levi. I'll publish the info myself then. Your name won't show up on any record.”_

_“What about your name, your goddamn reputation...?! What... what about your wife's death-bed will?! Archeology was and is your goddamn life, Erwin! You're not supposed to throw this away for theories!”_

There had been a sigh and a long pause. He remembered it so clearly as if the tension was still lingering in this stupid ass-caravan. He'd never seen Erwin lost for words before... never. 

_“Yes, indeed. I promised Hanji to never surrender. But, don't you see it? It's worth it... because it's the truth we're discussing here. Humanity deserves to know the **entire** truth! That's what we became archeologists for, her and I... and that's what she would have wanted.”_

Well, shoot! There was no frigging argument to counter that proposition. Erwin had been right. This was what Hanji would have wanted... the truth. Nothing more, nothing less. That shitty four-eyes... still messing with affairs even though she was already six feet under – blessed be her. 

Ideology, it's such an efficient way to ruin your whole life. Levi knew, Erwin was an ideologist of the worst sort, one who actually believed that it was his task alone to bear responsibility. Hanji had been too... and her enthusiasm cost her her life. Could Levi bear to lose another friend like that? 

He sighed. Staring at those snippets didn't do him any good... it stirred too much thinking.. too many bitter thoughts. It was a fucking mess... and this was the understatement of the century. 

The scanned, shredded pieces of the almost completely sun-bleached paper were so utterly small and the ink on it so hardly readable that it already took him weeks to piece them together in the right order. Even though he was an expert on the field and had the best of deciphering-programs running on his system, he didn't have much, just passages of minor importance. Fragments of truth... 

There was no telling if he could ever solve that puzzle or whether it was complete to begin with. There was the possibility that there were parts missing and those parts could inherit the valid information about what was the truth. Only time would tell if buying these snippets were a fluke or a letdown. He hoped for the first, though, for Erwin's sake.

“Someone... SOMEONE HELP!” A panic-stricken, muffled voice screamed at the top of their lungs, somewhere between three and four hours of constant musing and paper shreds puzzling on Levi's side. The doctor snapped from his train of thoughts. Instantly he rose from his chair, making sure to quick-lock his notebook, before storming out into the bright sunlight and looking for the source of the disturbance. 

He spotted Marco Bodt half-carrying, half-dragging a semi-conscious and very pale looking Erwin Smith, towards the medical care caravan. _Shit!_ Levi's heart skipped a beat or two, but he was too much of a pro to let it visibly affect him. The blood-stained, strapped right arm of his leader didn't have a fucking impact on him as well... not at all. 

Quickly he dashed across the yard amidst the ruins of Shiganshina towards them, before the uproar Bodt caused could raise further attention to the other members of the team. No such luck though, as he spotted Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover appearing from the supply tent shortly after and even Jean Kirschstein and his underlings had the audacity to gawk up from their work at the twist drill vehicle. _You vulturous rubbernecks, mind your own business._

“What happened?” He snapped slightly irritated by so much attention, but not hesitating to help the freckled language wonder with supporting the almost limp body of their leader, getting his neat white coat sprinkled with droplets of blood in the process. For now, he didn't mind. 

“Dr. Levi... A snakebite, i-in his right arm. Da-Daboia russelii, I-I guess... no... I'm certain! About ten minutes ago. Please, he needs-” Marco Bodt stuttered, words shaking and tumbling like an unsteady toy blocks tower. He could tell the boy was a mess, but at least he delivered him a sufficient amount of information. He could work with that.

“Goddammit, get a grip, Bodt. I know what he needs, just help me getting him inside the caravan. No fucking time for panic attacks, got that?” He wasn't exactly barking at him, even though that boy caused him instant-headache by his rickety presence and even though he felt the urgent pressure of time working against him. But he needed that Bodt-kid's assistance and he needed him to cool down for that, so he had to be calm and professional himself, rubbing off on him and all. “Did you strap his arm to prevent the toxins from spreading?”

“Y-yes, Sir!” They entered the caravan. “And we strictly kept the bite wounds below heart level, as well!” 

“Good... very good.” Seemed like the stressed out kid wasn't that bad after all. “Did you try to suck the poison from his wound?” Levi asked softly, soothingly, while leading Marco and Erwin to the stretcher behind the curtain, before carefully helping to place the latter on it. 

“No... no. That would be... plain dumb, Sir.” The freckled boy answered, looking at him with a huge frown. _Oh, what now, Bodt? Are you doubting my competence?_ Well, basically it meant that he was relaxing around him. Good.

Levi graced him a pleased smile – or at least he thought of the slight twitching of the corners of his mouth as a smile. “Damn straight and a waste of precious time on top of that. Now be a good boy and clean Erwin's wounds with this...” he quickly conjured a metal kidney bowl, including a cotton ball and tweezers, fetched a bottle of rubbing alcohol and handed it all to Bodt. “...while I'll get the antidote and... Jeez, that wounds look pretty nasty. Are there three fucking bites? Did he try to pet that reptile beast or what?” Levi turned and sift through his drawers at top speed. Thanks gods he came prepared. 

Chain vipers were common in this area and he knew how to deal with a bite. _Ah, Daboia russelii... there you are, you sneaky devil!_ He fished for a syringe and rammed the needle through the cap of the upside-down vial, filling it with the precious antidote.

"Levi, did I... did I ever tell you... that your sense of humor sucks... at... at times like this.” The voice of Erwin rasped. 

Levi merely clicked his tongue and decided not to answer. Instead he carefully knocked the tip of his forefinger against the syringe's glass barrel before pressing the remaining bubbles of air through the cannula, sprinkling some droplets of antidote. “Bodt, He's a bit of a struggler, you think you can keep his arm still, while I inject the antiserum?”

Yes, Sir.” Oh that freckled kid was glorious in his devotion. Would he keep calling him Sir all the time? Whatever! Hopefully he had the strength to hold back Erwin Smith. 

"Levi...” 

“Shush now, Erwin... it's going to sting.” He bent forward, a deadpanned expression on his face as he kept on talking. Patients liked to hear what happened around them, even if they were in a state where they wouldn't be able to comprehend. It made them feel calmer, hearing that the doctor knew exactly what he was doing while doing it and telling them all about what might happen to prepare them for a worst case scenario. “There might occur a necrosis in your arm. It looks good so far, but one never knows, some time passed before you got here and chain vipers poison is nasty.” He felt for veins in Erwin's stiffening arm, and quickly made contact with a rather big one directly in the crook of his arm. He cast his eyes down for just a moment and kept on talking, while penetrating the skin and placing the needle into the channel of the vein, injecting the antidote at a slow pace. Erwin didn't flinch, he didn't even notice. He was too occupied with listening to Levi's words. Distraction works wonders, it seemed. “You'll feel sick for a while.” he removed the needle, wiped the small, forming droplet of blood away with a disinfected strap of cotton and placed a clean patch on the puncture. “But I swear to you, when you throw up anywhere but this kidney bowl then I'll kill you and you don't have to worry about your arm any longer.” He removed the needle from the syringe and threw both contents into another container, before unceremoniously throwing a pack of single-use kidney bowls beside Erwin's head. 

Erwin chuckled. “I'm not... worried. K-knowing you... you probably... have some... extra limbs lying around... somewhere...?” 

“I sold _organs_ on the black market, not extremities.” Levi retorted nonchalantly, but chuckled. Someone got his shitty sense of humor back, that was a good sign. He removed his disposable gloves, while watching with a smirk the last bit of color on the pale looking Bodt-kid drain from his face. He looked like he was on the brink of tears now... and nauseous. “Told you, I'm not nice, Bodt, didn't I? Watch your kidneys and you'll be peachy.” He almost pitied him, now that his skin-color turned a slight shade of green. Almost. It hadn't been Bodt's fault that his friends gossiped about him, but he was still their friend... payback's an ugly business, but oh-so-sweet. “Well, We're done here. He'll survive, bad weeds grow tall. You did a fair job as an assistant and now fuck off.” 

The brat nodded and fled the caravan without another word. 

“Levi... was that necessary?” 

The doctor rolled his eyes. “Necessary? No. Entertaining? Yes. Besides, you brought this up, I merely corrected the false impression you were giving.” He quickly slipped into another pair of disposable gloves and fetched an introducer for venous access as well as a pack of physiologic salt solution. Erwin groaned. 

“Don't complain, you crybaby, I need to keep you hydrated.” He took Erwins hand, sprayed some antiseptic on it and wiped it clean. Levi smirked gleefully while piercing the skin, setting the venous access with ease and some flinching on Erwin's side, before ramming the needle of the connecting hose into the rubber plug of the pack of physiologic salt solution and placing it on a hook at the ceiling by half-way climbing on the stretcher. After that he connected, the already dripping end of the hose to the Blondie's venous access and adjusted the flux. “There, there... I would give you painkillers too, but they'd probably interfere with the antiserum. So, you're bad, I guess.” 

“You're.... enjoying this... hng... way too much...” 

“Shut up." He smirked. "I'm just doing my job. How are you feeling?” His gloved fingers touched Erwin's forehead, feeling the slick film of sweat on it as much as the heat through the thin layer of latex. Well, the body was busy working to get the toxins out of the system and the higher temperature was still acceptable for now. 

Erwin leaned into the cool touch of his hand until Levi pulled away. “Miserable... and... exhausted.” he complained truthfully, delirious eyes fluttering shut. 

“Go to sleep then.” Levi announced and turned on his heel. He'd get the man a thermal pack, the least he could do. “You can tell me the heroic – and I bet incredibly crack-brained – story of how exactly you got those bites in your arm later. Seriously, Erwin, chain snakes are geobionts and, call me uneducated, but for some odd reason I doubt that they can jump.” Levi scolded, while rummaging his drawers for some gauze. The blonde leader of the expedition didn't reply, though, instead soft snoring sounds filled the interior of the caravan. 

The doctor rolled his eyes at him again, but gently placed the thermal pack on his forehead, before he started taking care of the severe looking, purple-ringed wounds one after another. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a clue whether this is the right treatment of how to deal with snakebite wounds... I know, the area should be strapped and that the wounds should be kept below heart-level from some quite interesting first aid videos I watched on youtube for the sake of research... but, I really don't know where the antiserum should be injected, seriously. I just described some things, I'd do if I were a doctor... blame me for spending way too much time in hospital and thinking doctors always infuse someone with physiological salt solution no matter what... or manhandle patients with injections and venous accesses... v.v;;
> 
> Well, that's about it for now... did you pick up the hints of a forming plot right in there? |') Secrets... secrets... yeah, I love being a tease. This story will unfold slowly... x'D  
> And I killed Hanji.... oh my god, I killed Hanji... QAQ It was necessary though... in a way... for once to not make them all a big bunch of gay characters and for second to fuel Erwin's determination. Hanji might be dead, but she won't stop "messing around with affairs", as Levi so nicely put it. ;3
> 
> Hope you guys stay tuned and awesome! Any questions regarding the story can be asked on my tumblr: shingekinofanstuff (shameless advertising~)


	4. Small Pleasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: Where there is blood on Bertholdt's hands, teasing from Marco and Jean being utterly confused most of the times...  
> [Jean's POV]
> 
> I'm still searching for one or two beta's, mainly for evening out some parts and correcting errors... Any volunteers who know how to deal with google docs?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Life is made up of small pleasures._  
>  _Happiness is made up of those tiny successes._  
>  _The big ones come too infrequently._  
>  _And if you don't collect all these tiny successes,_  
>  _The big ones don't really mean anything._  
>  Norman Lear

Jean dismissed his team with a tired wave of his arm after a more or less successful day of repairing the equipment. “Good work, everyone!” Guess, it would never harm to keep the spirits up and motivate his co-workers. At least some of them smiled at him. That was nice. He was still feeling awkward and tense around people and he was their boss, so they felt the same around him, even if he tried to be friendly. Well, he knew, he was being a dick most of the times… they had a schedule and they already were behind time.

He shrugged, feeling the tension in his sore muscles and kneaded a specifically painful spot between his shoulder blades. Man, lying on his back, more specifically on the hard ground, while repairing underbodies wasn’t good for his health. Well, at least they managed to make the drill vehicle full-functional again. There still remained a lot of other stuff to take care of, though. 

Fetching the nearly clean cloth he brought along, he wiped his greasy hands freeing himself from the sticky grease that covered him almost everywhere; on his working clothes and on his body, even his hair was more oil than soft tuft. It made him smell like a whole refinery actually and it would definitely take more than just one shower to get rid of the scent. But he kind of liked it anyway. 

After he was clean enough he fished for a cigarette from the package in his breast pocket and the cheap, yellow throw-away lighter he brought along. He sighed, hesitating for a moment to put it in his mouth and light it. He had promised Marco just yesterday to quit smoking. But that urging beast inside him which went by the name addiction controlled his mind. _Smoke, smoke, smoke!_ It whispered all the time and, really, he needed that damn nicotine right now after such a long, hard day of work.  He idly sat down on a bench, crossing his legs and inhaled deeply, before releasing soft puffs of smoke into the air, all the while basking in the last rays of sunlight before dusk would approach. 

“Ahhhhh… just what I needed. This job's so much tougher than I thought.” he mumbled to himself, smiling instead of scowling. Although he complained, he loved the satisfying feeling of exhaustion at the end of a long working day.  

“You seem pleased, Jean, but talking to oneself is the first sign of madness.” A soft chuckle followed those words. Jean craned his neck, already recognizing that soft tenor voice and the pleased smile on his lips altered into a full-fledged grin. Marco dropped down beside him, his beloved tablet PC in his hands and waving his hand at the smoke polluting the air. “I'm disappointed. Didn't you tell me you wanted to quit?”

Freckles was dressed in three-quarter khaki cargo pants and a neat sand-colored v-neck shirt; there was a crimson Arabic keffiyeh around his neck, matching his equally red chucks. All in all a very fashionable set of casual clothes and it suited him. It was actually appropriate and neat enough to make Jean aware of his own sloppy attire: Shabby stone-washed blue jeans consisting more of rough-fringed holes and oil stains than actual clean fabric and his likewise dirty indigo longsleeve-shirt, not to mention his worn-out, dusty, grayish jump boots. He did the manliest thing he could think to deal with his embarrassment... he blushed with a grunt. Yeah, that was very manly.

“Changed my mind.” he grumbled with a growl – his usual way of speaking. He couldn’t keep that slightly pissed undertone from his voice no matter how hard he tried. It was probably all about habits. He wasn’t immensely surprised, when his words earned himself another amused chuckle. Marco had the tendency to laugh his menacing looks and scowls off like it was nothing disagreeable. Of course, he was grateful for that, but it also made him question Marco Bodt's sanity at times; no one was permanently that contagiously cheerful. Maybe Marco was more of a permanent condition - manifested kindheartedness or so - than a normal human being? Who knows... “It's my only vice in life, let me have it.”

The language expert wrinkled his nose as if he was disgusted. “Nuh-uh. It's a guarantee for an early, painful death by lung cancer and, even worse, it stinks.” With a smooth gesture of his hand Marco snatched the cigarette from Jean's lips and, before the latter could even do so much as react, dropped it on the ground to grind the butt under his heel. “No more smoking.”

Jean was about to protest and scowl again, but, oh man... did Marco just imply that the stink of a cigarette was worse than lung cancer? Probably the first joke he ever heard of the educated language wonder and such a morbid one on top. Jean had a hard time trying to hide his snorting laughter behind a disgruntled growl. “I... pfff... I never knew that you were such a fucking prick. That was my last one!”

Marco frowned, but smiled as genuinely as he’d always do. “Don't be mad at me, Jean, but you need to polish your language and you certainly need more determination, when striving for success. I’ll help you as best as I can.” He placed one of his warm hands on his shoulder, squeezing it comradely. It felt so nice being around someone like him… having a comrade, maybe even friend.

Jean certainly liked the idea of being friends with Marco. It seemed so promising and right for a reason. On top of that being friends with Marco was incredibly easy and comfortable, mostly due to the freckled man’s account. If Jean were him he would have already given up on that grumpy, thick-headed jerk that was himself. Marco hadn’t. 

“It was just a smoke.” He wasn’t one to let the other person know about his feelings, though. No, he was still a petulant dick. The other didn’t seem to mind at all, countering his crankiness with smiles and gentle words. It really didn’t take more than that but Jean made the conclusion that this was pretty much the greatest trait about Marco Bodt: Accepting people the way they were. “Just one goddamn smoke in a day.” Yeah, Jean was undeniably beyond help.

“Not only that, Jean. It was a draw-back. You slipped back into old habits.” Marco scolded in light tones and tilted his head slightly, looking Jean up and down. It almost felt uncomfortable for a moment. Then he smiled mildly. “Look, I'm just trying to-” Whatever he was about to say was lost in the moment his eyes widened in horror. “Bertholdt!” He was up on his feet in seconds, clasping a hand over his mouth and helplessly staggering forward a few steps. 

Jean followed Marco’s  bewildered gaze, looking at Bertholdt who had appeared around a corner. At first sight he seemed pretty normal, on closer inspection though he noticed the stains of blood covering his arms and shirt... oh. “Shit..!” Jean exclaimed in nothing more than a shocked whisper, as his stomach churned in dread. Marco already stormed towards the tall one, who wiped his sweaty forehead with a bloodstained hand and leaned against the remains of an old building, panting. 

Jean couldn't move a single finger. _You chickenhearted fuck, help them. Move. Your. Ass._ His mind kept yelling, but all he did was gulping. Panic started spreading in his chest and tightened its ugly fingers around his body to keep it as paralyzed as it was.

“Oh my God, Bertholdt, w-what happened?” Marco spoke before even reaching him. 

Jean’s mind was screaming now. All he could think about was that Marco had no problem at all to move and help their teammate even though he was supposed to be the sensitive one of them; the guy who fainted for a second after leaving Dr. Levi’s caravan just the other day. So, why was Jean unable to move? He was supposed to be the tough one, right?

Bertholdt blinked a few times, looked at his hands and gave Marco a reassuring smile. “Oh...ohhhh! N-no, this is not my blood. I went out hunting and shot a boar. Just finished eviscerating it and well it was a bit messy and there was a lot of blood involved, obviously. B-but it's not mine, so don't worry.”

Jean sighed in relief, feeling the panic that held him captive vanish little by little. His body kept on shaking though. _Wow, that was intense..._ Leisurely he strolled over to them, his legs feeling like wobbly jelly. He felt deeply ashamed by his earlier, angst-ridden behavior. _Chickening out when someone's in trouble, what kind of lousy comrade are you, Kirschstein?_ Clenching his fist in his pants pockets, he kicked at small stones and hoped this would cool him down a bit, before he reached his teammates… and he hoped they wouldn’t abandon him for his lack of helpfulness.

But neither Berthold nor Marco mentioned it. They just smiled at him as soon as he stood by their side and it sort of made him feel even worse. How could he think so less of them? None of them had judged his behavior ever before. 

“So,” he started, trying his best to take up the small talk and sounding casual. “We're having meat today?”

Bertholdt shook his head. “No. Unfortunately it has to bleed dry first, before I can prepare anything with it. Tonight we'll make a bonfire and roast sweet-potatoes.” The tall chef blushed slightly and scratched his cheek in his usual sheepish manner, leaving a trace of red on it. Jean noticed that he resembled a mass murderer with all that blood on his hands and face, even though his behavior was weirdly childlike. Somehow, the thought sent a shiver down Jeans spine. There it was again... that odd feeling of seeing something familiar. “Reiner, I and… another friend… we did this a lot, when we were children.” For some reason Bertl’s greenish eyes dimmed and his tone became dull. “Well, I thought it would be a nice idea, even though it's a bit nostalgic...” 

“It sounds pretty nice.” replied Marco, a gentle smile tugging his lips upwards, petting the tall one’s arm soothingly... sympathetically…? “You're heading for a shower? Jean needs one, too.”

He couldn't believe what he just heard, was he still mocking him? Irritation kicked in, when Jean cast a sideway glance at his comrade. “Oi Freckles, you implying I stink?” 

“Not implying. Saying.” Marco corrected with a giggle. _A giggle... for real?_ “You reek of old grease, sweat and smoke. You definitely need a shower... and look you're dirty, too.”

“Why, you…!” When Jean lunged forward, Marco swiftly stepped aside and sprinted a few meters away from them, laughing. “Wait until I get you, Bodt!” Jean threatened, laughing as well and it sounded light-hearted and freeing. 

Beside him Bertholdt chuckled. His eyes became lively again. It wasn’t until that moment that Jean realised what Marco had done. He’d actually managed to lift his mood again, with  nothing more than simple bantering. It was the most incredible thing the technician had ever witnessed… like a damn miracle. There was definitely more to that freckled guy than just a talent for dead tongues… 

_Marco Bodt you really are something._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a rather short chapter, I know, but I wanted to portray Marco's and Jean's growing relationship better and how the group starts bonding slowly. Still I feel like nothing really happened here. It's maybe just the calm before the storm... yes, probably. 
> 
> Next chapter will be Dr. Levi's POV again, Bertholdt and Reiner demanded private time in the showers. v.v


	5. Wings of Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: Where there are infos about Levi's past, true friendship between man and (in Levi's opinion) stupid, offending comparisons.  
> [Levi's POV]
> 
> Since the last chapter was so short and since this chapter turns out to be even shorter, I decided to upload it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _What light is to the eyes_  
>  _What air is to the lungs_  
>  _What love is to the heart,_  
>  _Liberty is to the soul of man._  
>  Robert Green Ingersoll

“What's all the noise out there?” Erwin asked, sounding way too chirpy for someone who just recently slipped from the greedy hands of poisonous death. Okay, maybe that was an overstatement. He had never been in a critical state, but well... way too chirpy.

Levi’s gaze wandered over the rim of his notebook screen to the scenery that unfolded outside the window. “Kirschstein's chasing Bodt for whatever reason and Hoover looks like he fucking slaughtered someone... maybe Braun. He's absent. Always guessed that tall one was a creep.” He crinkled his nose in disgust. How dared those brats insult his eyes by displaying so much filth in public? Did they never hear about showers?

“Could you at least try to sound like you cared?” Erwin chuckled. “They're getting along pretty well, that's nice. It lifts the team spirit and makes this journey way more enjoyable and less complicated.” Oh God, did he really just sound like a proud mother-hen? _Please, Hoover, slaughter me next._

“Yeah, ain't it dandy?” Levi snorted. “It looks pretty idiotic from my point of view.”

“Levi...” The scolding tone again. Honestly, what did Erwin expect from him? That he would change his entire attitude, because the kids were getting along so well? Forget it.

“Oh just shut up and sleep. I've got plenty of work ahead, thanks to you, and my head fucking aches.”

There was a displeased sigh and a pause of words... much better. Unfortunately, it didn't last for long. “You know, I'm sorry about Petra.” Now, that was a punch below the belt.

Ouch. Levi's grip around the mouse tightened, his eyes narrowed to slits. “She's better off with Bossard. I don't fucking care anymore.” _Great, just great._ How was he supposed to focus on his words now like that? 

Petra Ral had been his one true love, he had been certain about it. Still, he had never in any way let her know how much she really meant to him. He was that kind of person, he couldn’t talk about emotions. And he took her for granted, someone who admired him enough to stick with him no matter what shit he got himself into or how many times he left her behind, going on expeditions with Hanji and Erwin. It wouldn't have been a problem to get her into their team as well, really. But he never wanted that... he had been fine with leaving her behind. Proved to be the biggest mistake he ever did.

Her admiration vanished over time when she realized that Levi would never change his attitude, not even for her. He'd never been a role-model boyfriend, he’d never show too much affection if he could avoid it. He loved her, deeply, truthfully and wholeheartedly, yes, he still did, but he could never bring himself to voice such feelings.

He hadn't seen it coming. That affair with one of his other assistants, Oluo Bossard. Maybe he'd even turned a blind eye on them once or twice... yeah, in retrospect, he definitely must have. It had been so obvious. Bossard's flirting and craving for her attention nonstop. He should have seen it coming that this was what Petra really longed for, someone who openly returned her feelings. His arrogance made him believe that she would never leave his side. He paid the bill for that, three month ago, when she confessed it all with tears in her amber eyes, leaving him for a man who'd give her what she wanted instead of neglecting her most of the time.

He could still feel the pain like fresh wounds. Losing her was entirely his own fault

Sighing he clicked his tongue. Time to torture his pesky patient a bit. He rose from his chair, crossed the caravan and dropped down on the stool beside Erwin's sickbed. He flipped one leg over the other and crossed his arms in front of his chest, deadpanning at his leader. “You spoiled my mood, you ass. The least you can do now, is telling me all about how you got your snakebites.”

Erwin quirked one of his prominent, bushy eyebrows, but nodded then. “Well, Marco tripped over a stone while we were surveying the area around Shiganshina and talking over which routes to take. He landed face-first in front of that chain viper. I didn't hesitate in that moment, so I grabbed that beast's tail before it could assault the poor kid. It attacked my arm then, thrice. I managed to get rid of it somehow. After that Marco quickly came to his senses and did some first aid with little help on my side and he dragged me back to the camp. You know the rest of that story.”

“Shit... didn't lift my mood in the slightest, too pretty heroic and too typically you. So it’s Bodt’s fault, huh? Have to watch that kid.”

Erwin chuckled. “You will scare him to death. We still need him, you know he’s a genius.”

“Tch… he’s a klutz. Did you tell him about… you-know, yet?” Levi’s eyes wandered back to his notebook. He didn’t have to say much more than that to make Erwin understand. 

“No, not yet. Just didn’t have the opportunity. I’ll talk to him as soon as possible, though. Any progress so far?”

Levi shook his head. “Not much… I’ve got some passages puzzled together, but not much. Hate to admit it, but it would help if he gets involved… at least he can read that ancient language.” He sighed.

“I ask a lot of you, lately, I know. But it’s better to distract your mind by work. You won’t talk about it, but I can see your pai-”

“Erwin, don't.” Levi growled, feeling his fingernails digging through the fabric of his white coat and black turtleneck on his arms into his skin. He knew what his leader was about to say, but Levi wasn't one to talk problems over, be reminded of things he'd rather avoid facing. It kept his sanity intact. Casting aside problems, shoving them into the back of his mind… this was his way of dealing with them. Talking about them never helped... it would merely open up scabbed wounds.

“I'm not discussing this, frankly because I’m not planning on changing my attitude, Erwin. I'll always stay the way I am. I'm too old, too proud and too much myself to press myself into roles I don't want to play.” His eyes locked with Erwin's. “Accept that.” The grip around his arms tightened again. A strange mixture of anger, disappointment and fear tightened around his chest. He was about to go back to his work, ending this conversation, before it escalated, but a tight grip around his wrist stopped him in his track.

“You know, Hanji told me once what she thought about you. She compared you to a stray cat. Always on the run, always solitary in its fight for survival and with its own set of mind. She’d snicker and draw little doodles of _Levi the Lonesome Stray Cat_. Did I ever show you these?” Levi turned around on his heel and looked wide-eyed at the man like he finally lost it. The blonde merely smiled a little, let go of his wrist and seemed to reminisce in a memories of happier times, while turning his gaze towards the window at those peculiar brats who dragged their game of tag on and on. He felt his own features soften. It must hurt the blonde to see the brats running around so carefree, shouting and laughing like their world was a lot kinder on them than Levi’s and Erwin’s. Maybe it was. 

“No, you didn’t. And I'm not sure I want to see something gross like that.” Levi spoke after some time, his harsh words didn't match the usual biting tone he'd give them. Deep in his heart he understood the pain in those ice-blue eyes, even though his own pain was of a different sort. But it did neither of them any good to dwell in the past for too long. Those times were gone and would never come back. 

“Well, I disagreed with her on that. I never thought of you as a cat." He chuckled humorlessly, fingers curling tightly around the sheets of his bed, all the while betraying his poor act of casualness. "You are more like a bird. Whenever someone tries to catch you, you will spread your wings and fly away. You are not meant to be locked into a cage and held captive, it would only make you wither like a tainted tree.”

Levi swallowed hard, but he kept his deadpanned composure when he retorted, voice returning to as bland as always. “Are you fucking delirious again? Because there's a lot of cryptic bullshit coming from your mouth." No way in hell was he like a friggin' bird.

Erwin's smile was understanding and the doctor instantly scowled. He was reading him again, like a fucking open book. “You know what _'jiyuu no tsubasa'_ means, don’t you?”

“Oh please, don't gimme that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll get more action it the next chapter. I'm actually looking forward to it. ;3
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.


	6. Bittersweet Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter: Where there is background info about Berthold and Reiner, a hot encounter, Jean being lonely and the plot starting to begin.  
> [Reiner's POV]
> 
> Warning: Sexual themes occuring... nothing too specific, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Happiness._  
>  _Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart._  
>  _Bitter. Sweet. Alive._  
>  [Joanne Harris, Chocolat]

The upcoming wind tugged mercilessly at their clothes as the sun rose behind the mountain chain, coloring the dry, rutted ground beneath their feet in eerie crimson in the early morning hours. There lingered an oppressive silence among their team, as the the soft murmur of metal crescendoed into an angry chorus of wails - the song of the dead. Ten thousands or more withered blades, gathered up like a dire monument on the wide landscape, bent in the wind forming the voices of humanity's historical victory against the titans drawn with blood and countless bodies. It was as beautiful as it was gruesome.

They call it “Das Meer der weinenden Schwerter” which roughly translated means _Sea of Weeping Swords_. This was the place where past and present connected like nowhere else in the entire world; here, where the soldiers fought heir final battle against their arch enemies. A sacred ground, untouched by each and every generation following after in due respect.

“I hate that sound...” mumbled Reiner, pulling up the last pillar of their supply tent while Bertholdt fixed it with strings and hooks. That song was intense, that was for sure. The weeping crawled under your skin, made it goosebump and sent cold shivers down your spine. A song of the past sung by lifeless objects. It made him feel like he could almost hear the dying cries of soldiers, determined and stout, yet, desperate and panic-stricken.

Bertholdt rose to his feet and wiped away the sweat from his forehead. He turned his gaze towards the never-ending rows of blades and his emerald green eyes became melancholic in a way that hurt Reiner's heart. “That's the ghost of time.” He heard him whisper as he leaned against the pillar they just brought up, arms draped around his own torso like he was hugging himself.

It was always the same procedure whenever they came to this fields while on expeditions. Bertholdt would become silent, well, more silent than he already was; completely withdrawn actually, detaching himself from everything and everyone, even Reiner sometimes. It hurt to see him like that, suffering like he had been there centuries ago, witnessing the deaths of many men and being one of the grieving bereaved.

Yes, the aching in his chest never ceased when seeing his partner in this kind of state, but the worst time had been their first arrival here. As soon as they lay their eyes on the heartbreaking scenery, Bertholdt had dropped to his knees shivering and crying. He had been crying for days, sobbed and begged for forgiveness... as if it was his fault that all those blades were lined up in random criss-cross order. Nightmares shook him each and every night during their stay. He would wake with a scream, coated in cold sweat and he would cry even more and sob and choke on his words. He would tremble, curled up into a ball, dreadful shivers shaking his body and he would repeat uttered words of _I'm so sorry_ and _please, forgive me_ over and over again. No one knew what caused such a emotional breakdown and the tall man himself would never tell any of them what made him lose his composure.

Of course, Reiner had been there for him, holding onto him, rubbing his thumb over his partner's neck as gently as possible and murmuring soothing nonsense into his ears until the hiccuping stopped and he fell back into an exhausted, restless slumber. The nightmares returned, though, each and every night torturing his lover. It hurt so much to see him so broken and it hurt even more that Reiner was utterly helpless. He wasn't able to soothe the nightmares away, he couldn’t cast his suffering aside no matter how much he wished to and he was unable to understand the pain of his sensitive partner.

Well, Reiner was aware that the atmosphere in this fields felt more tense than anywhere else. With every breath he took he could taste the blood of the fallen on the tip his tongue and smell the fear, the panic and the desperation of dying men. It itched in the back of his mind; a lingering feeling to an unwelcome familiarity. Every inhale was like a connection to this lands from long long time ago and it curled around his lungs in a merciless grip. But he could never grasp the feeling behind that, could never fully understand the tantalized reactions of his lover.

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Reiner felt his fingers searching for Bertholdt's hand. He wrapped them around his sweaty palm and squeezed gently, hoping that he could somehow transfer his emotions into that small, single action. _I’m here. You’re not alone. I understand. Just don’t go._

Bertholdt usually wasn’t fond of showing his affections towards the blonde. Due to his shy nature, he preferred to keep their relationship away from the public eye. Reiner was pretty sure that even their current team members weren't aware that they were a couple. He was also conscious of Bertholdt not being ashamed of his lover or his love towards men at all. He just liked it better to keep their love a sweet secret and therefore making it even more precious than it already was, something only they shared and understood to its fullest content. He wished to protect it and this was a cute, innocent intention. Reiner respected that, appreciated it actually. They didn't need eye-witnesses who would most likely give them dirty looks and call them faggots, staining their genuine love with harsh words and improper judgment.

It was all the more surprising for Reiner that Bertholdt cast him a grateful smile and tugged at his shirt to pull him closer. He gently wrapped the blonde's strong, bulky arms around his lean body and emitted a pleased sigh as he leaned back against his chest, head resting against his shoulder, even though he was the taller one of them. Inhaling deeply, he tried to keep the unwelcome, surging emotions away which probably started to consume him by now and therefore searched for support in the other man's arms. With an understanding smile on his lips Reiner breathed a soft kiss on his partner's temples and nuzzled his cheek. Yes, he would do anything to make Bertholdt feel better and be happier.

“I'm so glad that I have you.” the tall one murmured, leaning into the blonde's affectionate caress, enjoying it and even smile a little.

Reiner placed another kiss on his cheek and intertwined their fingers. “So am I.”

 

* * *

 

Hands roamed over tanned skin, fingers outlined muscles, their tips dancing over renowned territory and eliciting the sweetest sounds from his lover: Sighs of pleasure when he grazed his lips over his collarbone, blissful whimpers as he circled his sensitive hipbones with his thumbs and ecstatic moans whenever he pinched his nipples.

“R-Reiner...” his name dripped from Bertholdt's slightly departed  mouth like sweet honey. Lips nibbling, pecking, kissing, dwelling in the taste of bittersweet, yet intoxicating flavor, strong black tea with sugar on his partner’s tongue.

A fine film of sweat coated Betholdt’s quivering body and a pink blush flourished on his cheeks. Green eyes darkened in lust behind a shimmering curtain of tears. He gently nipped the salty liquid from the corner of his eyes, kissing the suffering away or, at least, hoping so.

He had been checking on the equipment together with Jean earlier that day, making sure everything was in a good shape so that they wouldn’t have any difficulties starting once they arrived in Trost - an every day procedure. When he returned to their caravan, though, he found Bertl on their bed, shivering, legs curled up to his chest and face buried between his knees. There had been hiccuping noises, panic-stricken eyes, tears, fear, his own heart beating more urgently by the second, dashing, rushing, hushing, shaking his shoulders, pleading, praying, begging him to inhale and exhale deeply, voices arguing, concerned, frightened, scared - everything seemed to be a blurr of perception in the back of Reiner's mind. One motion merged into another, concern plunging into an abyss of emotional chaos, spiraling into a sea of panic. Now, however, they meant to forget, melting fear and forging it into lust by the fire of the their radiating body heat.

A soft bite into the brink between neck and shoulder caused the body underneath him to tremble. Reiner felt a guttural groan forming in the back of his throat. By now Bertholdt was the epitome of temptation. The blonde would have been an idiot to not love that man who almost drove him crazy by this alluring sight alone. Fingernails dug into his back, motivating him as he sucked on the delicate flesh of his neck, before gently licking over the maltreated skin. The tip of his tongue outlined the sharp edges of the other one's jaw, traveled to his ear and pecking on the sensitive spot behind his ear. From the corner of his eye Reiner could see Bertholdt's Adam’s apple move up and down as he tried to swallow all the lewd sounds springing from his lips. Grinding his erection against the other man's crotch worked wonders on Bertholdt's restraints, though, and the friction it caused filled the air around them with gasps of pleasure.

“Oh... oh God, Reiner. Reiner…. hnnn… Reiner...” The way he rolled his name like a caramel bonbon over his tongue sent tickling sensations directly down to his crotch. He wanted him so badly and Bertholdt felt the same. Almost begging him to go on and on, wanting more and more.

He could smell the musky scent of the other, while nuzzling his neck, caressing it with the tip of his nose and exhaling hot breath on the area where his jugular pumped an unsteady rhythm. They exchanged open-mouthed, sloppy kisses, tongues dancing tango in each other’s mouths, while fingers buried themselves deep inside the soft, damp locks of dark-brown hair. They're ragged breath enhanced into pants as their lips departed, a string of saliva connecting them for just another few moments. They locked eyes, diving into the depths of each other's souls burning in a fire of arrant desire. Mesmerized. Intoxicated. Perfect.

_Tock! Tock!_

Reiner's tongue traveled downwards, leaving traces of saliva on the delicate flesh of Bertholdt's sternum, his body sensually arched into the caress, seeking more and more attention, gasping, moaning, hissing sharply all the time, driving Reiner more and more insane with want. His tongue twirled one of his lovers nipples, pecking and sucking it with vigor and savoring the exquisite taste of salty pleasure which was undeniably Bertholdt.

_Tock! Tock! Tock!_

A sigh beneath him. “Reiner... s-stop.”

He could feel the heart beating underneath the heaving chest, fluttering like a jittery bird and the blood rushing through the veins in his own ears almost made him deaf to the sounds that were coming from the door. He was so willing to ignore them. They’d go away. They weren't important. Bertholdt was all he cared about right now.  

_Tock! Tock! Tock!_

He growled. _Just fuck off!_

“Reiner, Bertl? Come on, guys, I know you're in there... I... please, can you let me in? I dunno what else to do.”

Bertholdt gently shoved Reiner from his flustered body and slipped off the bed in one smooth movement. Before Reiner was able to protest about the loss of his lover, said one readjusted his pants and picked up his navy-blue sweatshirt to cover his bare chest, before he opened the door and let Jean Kirschstein enter their sanctuary with a sympathetic smile on his lips. “Hey Jean.”

Reiner sighed and was about to kick the technician right out of their caravan again, when he registered the meaningful glance Bertholdt shot him and Jean's miserable expression behind the usual scowling facade. Hands burrowed in the pants pockets of his worn-out canvas, hanging shoulders and eyes firmly fixed to the ground, he looked like the petulant brat he could be, when he didn't get his own will. Still, something was off.

“Hey… am I interrupting?” His voice was lackluster and barely more than a hoarse whisper. Something was definitely off.

Before he could help himself, Reiner was off the bed and on his feet, true concern overpowering the need for some private time. He didn't quite remember when he thought of Jean like he had to take care of him as if he were his son who needed advice from his old man once in a while, but he felt it right at this moment. “Nah, not at all. Make yourself comfy.”

He gently ushered the boy to the other side of the caravan towards the sitting area. When Jean silently dropped down on one of the upholstered benches like a hessian sack and absentmindedly fumbled with the laced border of the table cloth, he knew for sure that there was something absolutely wrong with the technician. “Come on, spit it out! What's bothering you?”

Jean flinched and growled something incoherent, burying his lower face deeper into the collar of his his cherry red turtleneck. Bertholdt smacked Reiner across the head for his bluntness, before opening the fridge and fetching some cans of vanilla flavored ice-coffee. “Here. ” He offered Jean with a gentle smile, once he came back, before handing one to the blonde. “You don't have to tell us anything if you don't want. It's still nice to have you here.”

The other nodded and uttered a thanks. Bertholdt comradely squeezed his shoulders, before fetching some potato chips and card game as well, while Reiner silently wondered what exactly was going on here. His lover placed the goods on the table, before seating himself on the bench beside Reiner, curling up his legs underneath himself in the process. He shuffled the cards, declaring that they were about to play a game of poker at the least, using the chips as some sort of poker chips. The way he squirmed in his seat, made Reiner guess, that he was still having difficulties with the tightness of his pants, and he wondered why it seemed so important for his reserved partner to keep Jean company.

Jean sighed and nodded. “Don't have much else to do at the moment. Marco's with the Doctor and Erwin.” He growled slightly irritated. That was the moment Reiner realized something and gained answers to most of his questions. Jean was missing company... oh.

Thinking about it, Marco was usually always at Jean's side during this journey, even though he had a lot of research to do and even though Jean happened to be in a continuous sour mood when he had hardly any work since their departure from Shiganshina. Lately, though, the freckled language wonder happened to be frequently summoned by Erwin and Dr. Levi. When they asked him, what he was doing there, he begged them not to, because he wasn't allowed to share confidential information and Jean had been doubtlessly pissed about the secrecy.

They sat in silence for a while, playing cards and trying their best on keeping poker faces. Bertholdt failed his attempts by sweating harder whenever he got in a pinch. So, Jean's tension finally dropped, falling like a heavy weight off his shoulders, as they laughed and chitchatted. The atmosphere turned less and less awkward and after Jean won all their remaining chips in one masterful stroke, they ended up lounging on the benches and watching a horror movie, much to Bertholdt's chagrin. The tall one flinched in various degrees when the victims fell one after another to the zombie attacks, curling up into Reiner's protecting half-hug. He was easily scared by all the blood and gore happening on the screen and forgot completely that they weren't alone, cuddling and seeking comfort in his lovers broad chest without restraint.

There was no way in hell that Jean didn't notice something was going on between Reiner and Bertholdt with the taller one clinging to the blonde like he was the only solid thing in the world. The unreadable expression on his face whenever he shot them a glance, told volumes. But if it in any way disturbed him, he didn't say a word. When the credits finally rolled over the screen Bertholdt emitted a relieved sigh and made them all shaking with laughter once again.

“T-thanks goodness...” He wheezed with a small smile.  “I really don't like these kind of movies. Anyone hot chocolate?” He asked while getting up on his feet and strolling towards the kitchenette. When both of them nodded he started preparing the hot drink, humming slightly. Bertholdt appeared to be like the perfect poster-housewife, Reiner thought to himself, and snickered slightly at his own inside joke.

“So, you guys are in love?” Jean asked with a smirk on his lips that was something between threatening and challenging. From the corner of his eye he could see Bertholdt tensing up and nervously spilling half of the tiny marshmallows he was about to add to their mugs. So much for the perfect poster-housewife... _Jean, you ass._

“You've got a problem with that, Kirschstein?” growled Reiner. He had anticipated that Jean brought up the topic in a way, he just didn't expect him to be that tactless, blunt nature or not. Bertholdt looked very much like a deer caught in headlights, even though he tried his best to focus on the task at hand. He added some Rum to the dark blue mug that was his own, that alone proved Bertl had an inner turmoil of tremendous proportions going on.

“Reiner, be nice.” Bertholdt chided calmly, placing the first mug of hot cocoa and tiny marshmallows in front of Jean with shaky hands. Although he tried his hardest to act naturally cool, Reiner could hear the slightly edgy undertone in his voice, barely noticeable for anyone who didn't know him as well as the blonde did. Still, it was there.

No matter what kind of insults would follow Jean's statement, Reiner was eager enough to protect their relationship for both of them. So, he glared as best as he could, meeting honey colored eyes which looked genuinely surprised. _Huh?_

“Why would I?” He asked. “Uh, thanks, Bertl.” He smiled and took a sip from the mug Bertholdt just handed him, wrapping his fingers around the warmth. It was then that he seemed to recognize Bertholdt's discomfort for the first time. He choked on his hot chocolate, eyes going wide as realization hit him and he began to stutter a more or less eloquent apology... well, rather less. “Oh jeez! God, no! Did you think I'm homophobic...? No, fuck, I'm not... not at all... you two are cute together okay...? No, not cute... kinda perfect... errr... you know what I mean...” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I mean... it's your business after all... right? It's cool... it's perfectly cool! I just... and... well, I happen to be bisexual myself...” Oh... that was clearly unexpected. “S-so no offense... honestly... gosh, I'm sorry for the rambling.” He buried his face in the crook of his arm, looking slightly beaten.

Bertholdt blinked several times, clearly lost for words and looking at Reiner with a please-help-me expression in his eyes. Reiner, on the other, burst shamelessly into a fit of laughter earning himself yet another smack of his beloved and a blushing scowl from Jean which could only be subscribed as adorably cute, puffed cheeks and all. Really, just cute. “I... hahahaha... I'm sorry, okay? Li-hihihihi...” he started, then cleared his throat in an attempt to be sincere. It proved to be harder than expected, but he finally managed to control his laughter. “Listen, please be discrete about it. I mean, it's okay that you know and it's even better that you accept that we're gay, but we don't expect many to be like this.”

“I know, I know...” Jean interrupted. “It's common but some shitty people tend to not liking it. I said I'm bisexual, didn't I? I know the glances one gets when kissing another guy or the shit they say behind your back.” He growled, looking like he had experienced all of this himself. Poor guy.

“S-so, are you dating someone?” Bertholdt asked hesitantly but honestly interested, slipping beside Reiner once again and handing him his own mug of hot chocolate, which the blonde gratefully accepted. It was spiked with Rum, too. This time his tall lover didn't hesitate to openly take Reiner's hand into his own lap and run soothing patterns into his palm with his thumb, a loving smile crossing his lips as he even dared to press a soft kiss on his cheeks. Uncommon for him, but very welcome.

“No.” Jean scoffed. “I used to though... my boyfriend just couldn't accept... he didn't like the stares and comments. So, we kinda ended it, before any of us could get hurt.” Judging by Jean's sigh, his slumping shoulders and the gloomy expression, it had been to late for him to not get hurt.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bertholdt asked sympathetically.

If anyone could understand how hard this must feel, it was Bertholdt. His tall partner had been in a similar situation when he had been a teenager, falling for their childhood friend Berik. After what appeared to be an eternity, it took him all of his courage to ask Berik out. He valued their friendship, but at some point he had been unable to deny his growing feelings towards the other anymore. Everything went smoother than Reiner had anticipated, Berik had been willing to give it a try and fell for him before their first date ended. Their affection increased by the minute and they had been dating for two years when Berik suddenly announced that he couldn't take it anymore, the gossip, the stares, the all-in-all renunciation.

They had been about to leave for college, starting anew in a different place than their prejudiced hometown, all three of them together. What Berik didn't tell Bertholdt was that he picked an entirely different college for himself. He had given up half-way and started pretending that he was as heterosexual as everyone wanted him to be. It broke Bertholdt's heart and it equally broke Reiner's heart to see his best friend turning into a shadow of himself. The tall one had been apathetic for weeks after Berik disappeared from his life, not prepared for the way it ended or that it ended at all. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't go to school, he would just curl up in his bed, hugging pillows and drowning them in tears.

 _Another painful memory we shared_ , Reiner thought bitterly.

In the end, though, Reiner was grateful that Berik finished him off the way he did. He knew it was cruel, being aware of all the suffering Bertholdt went through in month to come after they split up. But Bertl wouldn't be his lover now, if Reiner hadn't been there for him in those moments, comforting him, making him forget with tender kisses and careful caresses. Misery draws people together and the blonde had taken advantage of that. Sometimes he felt guilty that he had been so reckless and calculating back then, but the warmth of Bertholdt's body leaning into him swiped those negative thoughts from his mind. There was no way in hell that he wished to miss the closeness between them just for a clear conscience, even though it remained a dark tainted spot on his soul.

“No, I'd rather not. It's past, you know, I'm over it.” Well, the scowl on his face didn't exactly match his words, but then again, it was Jean. The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but before Reiner could make sure, he wasn't hallucinating, it was gone again.

Pang!

All of them flinched at the sudden sound.

_Pang! Pang! Pang! Pfffffffffff~_

Four fucking shots... and after that, air emitting from tires. Highly alarmed by the sudden turn of events, Reiner quickly pulled Bertholdt closer to his chest, wrapping his arms protectively around the man's lean shoulders. Whatever was happening outside, Bertholdt didn't need to be part of that, he needed to be sheltered and protected...

“Okay, guys, the fun's over. I want the documents or else _pretty boy_ here will lose half of his face, you got me?”  Reiner registered a rough, female voice and it sounded faintly familiar.

“Ymir... Reiner that's Ymir... a-and Krista, too!” His partner exclaimed, sneak-peeking through the curtains to get a glimpse of the scene that was happening outside. “Ymir has a gun... and...”

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Jean was on his feet, within split seconds and rushed to the door of the caravan. Goddammit! He was blowing their cover! Eyes wide in panic he stormed out, his voice a shaking mixed-up cry of aggravation and desperation. “Marco...!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find it tremendously hard to write from Reiner's POV, but I hope everything's to your liking.
> 
> Bertholdt - I think due to his shy nature and his experience so far, he's keeping his relationship to Reiner a secret. He thinks it's precious and valuable, so he doesn't want others to taint it with foul words. Reiner accepts this, although I think he'd rather be the guy who'd openly admit his affections towards Bertholdt... I can picture him screaming it from the roofs of the world. Seriously. But for Bertl's sake...
> 
> And... well, I'm not good at writing sensual hot stuff happening between two guys, tried my best, though. 
> 
> I don't know, I think Reiner and Bertholdt do have a really strong bond going on between them, in my headcannon it's totally pure and sensual, tender and charming... but maybe it's just me? Do you guys like it? I'm seriously not sure, if anyone likes the story so far... so few comments... I'd like to have more feedback, then again, I'm feel like being such a greedy comment-whore... and... meeehhh... ;A;
> 
> As for the plot... look there's some action like I promised. 8'D Next time there will be even more action. So, please stay tuned!


End file.
